


The Lover of Mercutio

by PhoenixRising9733



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Major Original Character(s), Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Social Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-07-09 20:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19893604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixRising9733/pseuds/PhoenixRising9733
Summary: We have all heard of Romeo and Juliet. Of their tragic tale.We remember Mercutio, the man full of wit and humour, who dies with a curse.But we do not remember the woman that he left behind.The one person who knew Mercutio the best, as he was always the player, the man who played hard to get, the one who scorned love and laughed in Romeo's face. But people don't know who Mercutio returned to at night. And what dark secrets lie in his bedchamber.





	1. An explanation and a meeting

The sun beat down on the city, bathing everyone with its rich glow. Today would be a day to be blessed, as the days that would come after would be remembered for all of the wrong reasons.

We watch as a young man walks along the streets. His blond hair cast in his eyes, his sword dangling at his hip. This man, Mercutio, was the talk of the town. He was handsome, and dashing, and he was renowned for fighting with both his wit and his sword. He was also known for seducing many a maiden, fair or otherwise, with many of his exploits being twittered about in the noble parties.

He was related to the Prince Escalus, and so he was royalty. But he did not like being treated as such. He scorned his inheritance, and he mocked his very family name with the sarcasm that he readily sliced people near him with. So he became haughty, and he removed himself from the rest of society, save for a small group of people that he valued as true friends.

He spent time with one of the two dominant youth groups in the city: his group was called the Montagues, and their enemy group was the Capulets. They had been feuding for years now, ever since their parents quarrelled over lands taken by unjust means. So when the older generation grew weary, the younger stepped up and took the challenge with a passion that only young people hold. 

Mercutio ran with the Montagues, even though that his uncle the Prince was against it. To stay neutral was to stay above it all, his uncle had said. But his uncle was old and haughty, and if he had had any desire to experience life, it was long gone. Mercutio loved life, and he loved his friends with equal passion. His closest friends were the two leaders of the Montague group: Benvolio and Romeo.

Benvolio, a handsome, brown haired young man, was generally against fighting. He was good in a brawl when he was enticed, but he would rather be off seducing a fair maid than fighting a battle in which he was not needed in. He and Romeo were cousins, and together with Mercutio, it could almost seem like they were family. They fought, drank, played and pretty much lived together. Mercutio was the oldest of them all, a fine young man at the age of 23. Benvolio was the next oldest, only turning 20 that summer. Romeo was the youngest, and by far the handsomest, even though he was only 19.

Out of all of them, Romeo was the romantic one, even though he had never been with a woman before. His interest of late was of Rosaline, a Capulet girl, who seemed to have swept his heart away. But his words were empty of the passion that Mercutio and Benvolio possessed, and so his words were like leaves on the Autumn wind; blowing away to the slightest breeze. Neither Mercutio or Benvolio could stand his mutterings, so they convinced him to accompany them to the Capulet's ball.

This party was the talk of the nobles, and it was to be a masque. All of the women were twittering as Mercutio walked through the town with Romeo and Benvolio flanking him. They were on the way to the tailors, to get Romeo's mind off Rosaline, and to get new clothes to go to the masqued ball.

"Ah, Romeo, will you not shut your mouth and open your eyes? There are many young fancies that can catch your eye," Mercutio crowed, winking at a young lady hanging out washing at her window. She blushed all the way down to her bosom, smiling seductively. Mercutio laughed, and put his arm around Romeo. "Come now, you cannot tell me that Rosaline has captured your mind so that you cannot dwell on another womans' smile?"

"Oh, Mercutio, I wish I could laugh it off as folly, but I cannot take my mind from her, for she has captured it like a child catches a butterfly: so innocent, yet with almost cruel intents."

Benvolio rolled his eyes, mimicing Romeo's lovesick talk. "Honestly, I will die before I hear more of this absurd chatter. Mercutio, give Romeo a knock over the head, that may clear his mind enough to have a completely sane converstion with us."

Mercutio slapped the back of Romeo's head playfully, ducking to avoid the coming blow. They continued this banter until they reached the tailors, stopping outside the door.

"Ah, Benvolio! Look there! That blue would look very nice against Romeo's fine skin and eyes!" Mercutio jabbed, laughing as he did so.

Romeo rolled his eyes, pulling at his purse."Come on, you flirt-gills! I would like this over with!"

Mercutio followed Romeo and Benvolio into the store, inhaling the aroma of silks and velvets. He saw all of the beautiful colours that decorated the inside of the store, and the lush trims that hung from the ceiling like vines of silk. He only liked fabric when it was strewn on the floor of his chamber, and the woman who had worn it was draped across his bed. But he could appreciate the craftsmanship and beauty of the fabric all the same.

An older man ambled out from around one of the corners in the store, straightening his vest. He was well dressed and well kept, however the clothes he wore were plain and simple - unlike much of the other fabrics in the store. Mercutio mused that this was to perhaps prevent his family from losing money - using your own merchandise was not a good way to get a profit on expensive fabrics. 

"Ah, gentlemen, welcome to my store. My name is Lorenzo, and my daughter and I will be helping you today. What do you need?" the man spoke, bowing deeply before the young lords.

"Well, my friends and I need some new clothing to go to the ball. What do you offer?" Mercutio replied with a smile, reciprocating Lorenzo's bow with a nod of his head. 

"Whatever you can pay for," a voice said from behind a pile of cotton.

A woman stepped from behind the fabric, and all of the young men were stunned into silence. Her brunette hair was cut short, like a man, yet her figure betrayed her. She had a curvy shape, with voluptuous hips and breasts, further emphasised by a tie around her waist. She had on a shift that was green in colour, the same colour as her eyes. She wasn't extremely beautiful, but her features were strong and intelligent. She was carrying a basket of ribbon at her hip, making her lean over slightly. She looked at all of the noble youths with slight disdain, almost derision.

Immediately Mercutio was intrigued. He always liked seducing proud maidens. "Well," Mercutio purred, stepping forward, "What might your name be, young lady?" He took her free hand and kissed it.

Unimpressed, the woman, pulled her hand away from Mercutio's grip, replying "This lovely young lady's name is none of your concern, you vain mammet." 

"Vita!" Lorenzo shouted, moving over to the girl. He pulled her away and pushed her to the back room before any more damage could be done.

Benvolio and Romeo were struggling to keep their laughter contained, for the look on Mercutio's face was one of dumbstruck shock. Wall-eyed, Mercutio shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, and slightly scolded himself for not reacting quicker to this woman's wit. But what shocked him most was that she had rejected him. Not just a playful and sweet rejection that was often the prelude to lewder things, but a complete, cold and stony one. 

By God, that made him want her all the more.

"Who was she?" Mercutio inquired Lorenzo after he returned.

"She is my daughter, Vita. Her mother died of a sickness years ago, so she grew up resenting life," Lorenzo answered with a bow of his head. He spoke with a slight tinge of regret, possibly in how he had raised his daughter. "I am terribly sorry about her attitude, she generally doesn't like men, especially of the higher classes. I hope I can make it up to you by fitting you with some new garb?" Lorenzo proffered, starting to grab velvets and silks for the young men to view. 

Benvolio and Romeo nodded and started to talk with Lorenzo about the clothes for the ball, discussing latest styles and fashions. Mercutio leaned against the wall of the room, his eyes drifting towards the door where Vita had been stashed through. He was listening to the conversation between the other men, but his mind wandered. Despite feeling sorry for Lorenzo and Vita for losing a loved one, Mercutio smiled. Now he had a name to add to the humour and wit, and he was looking forward to seducing the young mistress.


	2. Boredom

Mercutio sat in his chamber, trying to read a book. Secretly he loved books, but he only read them while he was tucked away from the rest of the world, so that no-one else could see.

It was stifling hot outside, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of hose and an undershirt. The sun cast prying rays through the cracks in the curtains, almost like it was trying to prise Mercutio out of hiding.

He was reading poetry, in a attempt to find some short sonnet that he could seduce Vita with. Unforetunatly, he was failing. Miserably.

"Ah, she is not like any other maid in the city! She would scorn a man who spouts poetry, and would spit in his face. I do not need poetry, I need a clever tongue, of which I possess. Only the man that can rival her wit can truly have her," he mused.

Mercutio had implored after Vita after she had left the store, and he questioned her father of her habits and her humours.

He had brought up that her mother had died when she was young, and that afterwards she became more like a youth than a woman. However, after she started to look like a woman, she could no longer hide in boys hoses. So she became a woman, but she still cut her hair short, making a statement that she was not like the other women in Verona, who valued their looks over their brains. Her father said that she was very well educated, or at least as well educated as a young woman could be, and she enjoyed books on philosophy and theology. Mercutio was astounded, for a woman who loved reading books and learning the ways of the mind and of religion was almost unheard of. Her father must have bought books for her with the amount of money they earned so that she could learn in the safety and comfort of their own home, without the judgment of the public. 

After Mercutio and his friends left the store, in which they had bought some fabrics and trims for their seamstresses to make into their clothes, they had wandered around town, looking for something to do. Romeo was as fickleminded as a young girl, and he and Benvolio went to the nearest tavern to give themselves some entertainment. Mercutio, however, didn't join them, much to their surprise. He went off back to the shop, to see if he could catch a glimpse of the fair Vita.

Alas, he did not, but he did see her home. It was a small two storey cottage that was next to the fabric shop. He looked around the outside of the residence, stopping as he peered through a window. It was obviously Vita's chamber, as it had books and dresses draped around the sides of the window. He was surprised that they lived in such a small home, while many other people in the city had many floors in their houses.

Mercutio had shook his head, trying to talk himself out of pursuing Vita. She was out of his league. He was pretty much royalty, and she was a merchant's daughter. They could never work. But did it have to be a relationship? It could be something far simpler, far easier...

Mercutio's mind snapped back to reality as he heard a knock on his door.

"Who disturbs me?"

"My lord Mercutio, there is a lady here to deliver your new clothes."

A lady? Mercutio leaped off his bed, and he ran past the servant down to the door. He saw Vita, today dressed in a white shirt that tied up at the bust, and a corset around her waist. This made her figure look even more pleasing, and Mercutio was having trouble to not think of her with out the trappings of her clothing. Her skirt fell from her generous hips, and stopped at her ankles, showing her feet encased in red slippers.

"Lord Mercutio!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her bundle of fabric.

"Why, fair Vita, if I didn't know any better, I would say that you were surprised to see me!" Mercutio grinned, causing Vita's surprised expression to fall.

"Lord Mercutio, if anything, I would be surprised to see you with your lack of clothing, especially when you probably have enough clothing to rival the most extravagant woman in town."

Mercutio raised his eyebrows, smirking at her humour. "Well now, would you like to come see my wardrobe? I am sure that you would see in fact that I own much less than you think me to own."

"That would mean I would have to follow you."

"And is that in your interests?"

"Nay, I shall say it is not. Now, here is the fabric that you wanted, so take it and be done with me so that I may part your horrid company."

"You think my company horrid?"

"Only that you try and match me wit for wit when you cannot even make wits end of your feelings for anyone."

Mercutio stood back, confused at what Vita was implying. "Are you saying that I am heartless?"

"Not only that, but you push anyone away who may love you, or care for you, using your humour and your wit to make fun of people. It is not healthy, Mercutio, for you may find that one day no-one will be there for you to mock, so you will be mocking death itself until it to takes its leave of you."

Mercutio leant against the wall, supporting himself. This woman was far more than witty, but a truth-teller. "How do you know of such things, Vita, when you have only met me once?"

"Many of the women and men in Verona have something to say of the great Mercutio. Maybe you should listen," she spat, throwing the clothes at him and rushing out, all the while a faint blush on her cheeks.

Mercutio was still against the wall, as it was the only thing keeping him upright. Vita, this devil of a woman, had just stolen his tongue as well as his heart. He could see that she had some sort of feelings for him, else she wouldn't have run away with that beautiful blush on her cheeks. Either that or she was hot from the heat of the day. But he was sure that she saw her enjoying their battle of wits, smiling slightly as she made the perfect comment to parry his advances.

"Well," he said, talking to himself, "If she has such opinions about me, I must endeavour to change them, if I can."


	3. Tongues and Tacks

Vita ran from Mercutio's household, reprimanding herself. Why did she just do that? Engage in a battle of wits with the man who seemed to be the king of wits? And then continue on to insult he who is related to royalty? What made her take such a leave of her senses?

Vita stopped running and hid around a corner, her back against the wall. She could still see Mercutio standing there in the entry, in nothing but hose and undershirt, looking at her with interest. It wasn't like she hadn't seen other men, and it wasn't like she hadn't seen other men like him. Many of the poorer lords who did not have seamstresses often had to get their clothing made in the store, and Vita was the only female there. They often gave her looks of lust, trying to tempt her into their beds, but only in succeeding in pushing her from their touch. In revenge, she had often made their clothes uncomfortable to wear, or leave sewing tacks in the finished garment.

But why was Mercutio any different? He was just as foolish as any, however he was a lot younger than many of the local lords. There was much to be said about his appearance, with his soft blonde hair that fell across his piercing blue eyes. Eyes that could both stare deep into her soul and undress her at the same time. Not that she wanted that of course...

"Ugh! I must stop this!" Vita huffed, pulling at her skirts, "This is no way for me to think! Remember who he is! Remember what he represents!" Mercutio was not just any of the stuck-up lords in Verona, he was royalty. His family alone caused untold problems within the city, from the continuously rising taxes to support their luxurious lifestyle, to the sub-par doctors that "healed" the commoners. 

And then there was Mercutio. He had always been insulting everyone around him, even his closest friends. To the men that he insulted, they could not do anything due to his heritage. And the women that he had bedded... She knew many women who thought they had captured his heart, only to see him the next night with another woman on his arm. She had even heard of several children that had been the product of his nights of debauchery, their mothers hushed and sent away to far away rural villages and nunneries so that it wouldn't besmirch the royal name.

Her anger at him finally rose above her girlish attraction, allowing her to collect herself and walk back towards her home. It was a pleasant walk, at least the parts through the lord's houses. All of the gardens were well kept, the pathways were swept and clean, and the air was filled with the smells of rich foods cooking in the kitchens.

As she walked through to the poorer parts of the city, those things changed. People were walking the dirt- and crud-caked streets, coughing into dirty clothing. The only smells were the ones you did not want to smell. What little plant life there was, it was struggling to survive, much like the rest of the population here. Shaking her head, she once again thanked God that she and her father were better off than most.

Their cottage was on the outskirts of the commoner's lodgings, a small two floor stone house, with pleasant fir trees sprouting either side of the door way. She fondly remembered her and her mother decorating the trees during festivals, how she would struggle to reach any higher than the lowest branches, then have her mother take her upon her shoulders. Vita sighed. She missed her mother. If only she had been able to gave the care given to her that she had needed, else she wouldn't have died from infection.

"Father! I am home!" she called into the upper floor, pushing her way through some silks hanging from the roof. Even though she scorned all things delicate and feminine, she still enjoyed feeling the lush fabric and creating beautiful garments. She was just admiring a new bolt of velvet when her father poked his head out of the fitting chamber, his face lighting up in happiness.

"There you are daughter! Would you be so kind to come in and help this lady with her fitting, she is attending the ball this week and requires some assistance," he said, beckoning in Vita to the fitting chamber.

"Of course father, anything that I can do to help," Vita replied, grabbing her seamstress apron and fixing it around her waist. 

After entering the room, Vita understood why her father needed the help. The lady standing before her had obviously gone to a poor seamstress, for the dress was bagging in all the wrong places, seams were not straight and the accent fabric was both the wrong type and colour. This was going to be some work.

"So what do you want done my lady?" Vita asked, already knowing the answer, whether the lady knew it or not.

"You have eyes, don't you?" the lady scoffed, "It is obvious that the seamstress that made this has no idea what she was doing!" Turning the lady around, Vita could see that the woman was pretty, but also relatively plain, with long brown hair and brown eyes. Her skin was the pale alabaster most ladies of Verona had, due to their staying indoors all day. 

"Yes, well, you can be sure that my father and I will make this a masterpiece. Would you like us to replace the accent fabric? We have some lovely velvet that just came from the northern provinces that would make you look stunning," Vita soothed, pulling out the bolt of velvet that she was admiring before. The dark blue would look beautiful against her pale skin, as well as making the rest of the dress look much more expensive. 

"Hmmm, well, it does look lovely..." the lady said, her eyes softening whilst looking at the velvet. "You have an eye for this, my dear," she continued, looking at Vita. "I could employ you in my personal staff to make all of my dresses. It might certainly help to keep a certain lord interested in me," the woman giggled, holding up the velvet to her face. 

"And which lord would that be, my lady?" Vita asked, trying to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Yet another lovesick woman thinking that she needed a man in her life.

"Romeo Montague of course! One of the most eligible bachelors in Verona! But alas, I am a Capulet, so our love is fated not to be," the lady swooned, her lips turning down into a frown. "But I'm sure it could be possible, as I am only a niece of Lord Capulet, so my marriage is not as important as others within the family."

Vita again had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Another one of the many things plaguing the city was the feud between the Montagues and Capulets. Their gangs of men would brawl in the streets, causing havoc, and they constantly would try and cut off each others businesses, not thinking about the effects on the general public. "Well my lady, I can tell you that Romeo himself did visit this store only yesterday, and he bought some lovely blue silk to make his clothes. I would say that you would match him quite well," Vita advised, thinking of the money that would come from this. Enough to get her and father some more new stock, and maybe even some nice food. 

The woman's face brightened, looking at Vita with glee. "Oh yes! Thank you my dear, I will take the blue then, and have you make me the most beautiful dress! Oh thank you!" the lady exclaimed, gripping onto Vita's hands. "Oh, you have given me the most wonderful blessing! Please, call me Rosaline, for you have helped me so," she said, looking most joyous at the prospect matching Romeo at the ball.

"It is not a worry, my lady. If that is the case then, I shall start making the adjustments now, else we won't get this done in time for the ball!" Vita smiled, delicately removing her hands from Rosaline's and getting to work.

"Please dear, call me Rosaline. What is your name?" she asked, standing upright with her arms outstretched for Vita to get to the dress.

"Vita, and please stand still, else I will accidentally prick you with a tack."


	4. Dreamers often lie

Mercutio practiced prancing around his room, watching as the sun lazily drifted down over the city. The sky was painted with all of the colours he could think of, and yet strangely he found no beauty there - he was thinking of Vita's face. For nothing could compare to the strange beauty that lay in her sparkling eyes and vicious tongue. He craved to see her again, but alas, he was going to the Capulet ball. He imagined what it would be like if Vita had snuck into the ball as much as he and the Montague boys were, dressed in fineries and wearing a mask. He would sweep her across the floor and they would nearly float as they danced the night away...

"Ah, you fool, think! She is but a crafter's daughter! What would she know of dancing and courting..." he mused, checking his soft-soled dancing shoes. Shaking his head, he looked over the garments that Vita had dropped off earlier that week - admiring the quality of the fabric, the neatness of the stitches, the softness of the trim - 

"Ah! What is this?" Mercutio tutted, holding his finger as it blossomed with a drop of blood. There was a sewing tack still within the trim of the hose! "She must of sewn it then - with the intention to cause discomfort. But I will not be dissuaded! If anything, this proves that she thinks of me!"

Carefully pulling the tack out of the garment, he inspected the rest of the clothes. He found no less than three more sewing tacks carefully hidden away. After placing them delicately on a nearby table, he dressed himself in his garb, then pinned the tacks along the neck of his tunic - he would wear them with pride and keep them a reminder of Vita's thoughts - good or bad. For his adoration - nay, love - of her, was something too precious and tender to let out of his thoughts for even a second. 

He danced around his chambers as the lights dimmed, letting the shine of the moon bathe him in her chaste and delicate light.

"My lord Mercutio, your companions Lord Benvolio and Lord Romeo are here for you sir," a servant called from the doorway.

"Tell them I will be down soon, for I am nearly ready!" Mercutio crowed, placing the final touches of rouge on his lips and cheeks, to cover the fact that he hadn't slept well. Despite the fact that he would be wearing a mask, he still did not wish to appear gaunt. 

Grabbing his mask, he galavanted down through his manor, arriving in the court yard where Benvolio and Romeo were waiting.

"Ah my friends, are you prepared for tonight? For I am ready to dance the night away!" Mercutio sang, dancing around his friends and pulling at their hands, as if to dance with them.

"Mercutio, Romeo does not feel that this is a proper idea to be going tonight, for he is sure that we will be caught!" Benvolio teased, joining Mercutio in his silly jaunt.

"That is not my reason - I am weighed down by the arrow of love that Cupid has pierced my heart with, so much that my heart cannot bear!" Romeo lamented, pulling his hands away from his friends and grabbing a nearby torch to light their way. "Let me carry the light, for I am not going to dance tonight"

Mercutio looked at his friend in disbelief and humour - what a way to be. To pine so much after a love that cannot be yours, but instead of challenging that obstacle and overcoming it by any means, he admits defeat and resigns to depression. He was looking at it all wrong! He should be breaking through all of the barriers, thinking of his love every moment and attempting ways to see beyond what stops it, but what can carry it forwards into the bright future!

"Oh Romeo, you're a lover! Don't think of love as a weight, but as a way to fly above it all and soar! This party will serve as a chance for you to see that there is more to this than lamenting in your sorrows!" Mercutio vowed, wrapping his arm around Romeo's shoulders.

"Ah my friend, but I had a dream last night that we should not go - that misfortune awaits us," Romeo replied.

"And I had a dream last night too."

"Ah, and what was it pray tell?"

"That dreamers often lie."

\-----------------------------------------------

Vita stood at the door of Lady Rosaline's chambers, waiting to see how she liked the new dress that Vita had been slaving over for the last day. She had made sure to make it as flattering as possible, since her father told her that ladies were especially gracious with their coin when they looked better than they actually were. 

"Oh Vita, this is simply stunning! I could not have asked for a better garment! You are a god-send!" Rosaline cried. Vita stood patiently as Rosaline walked out of her dressing room and paraded around like a peacock. Vita admired her work with pride, as she had made a plain looking woman seem like a goddess, the navy blue bringing out her warm brown hair. 

"My lady, it was my pleasure. I am happy to see that you are pleased," Vita acknowledged, bowing slightly.

"My dear, what have I said! You are to call me Rosaline!" the lady laughed, spinning around. 

"Yes, Rosaline." 

"Oh Vita, I must simply hire you! You would do so well to be my personal seamstress, and I would pay dearly for your services!" Rosaline asked, standing in front of Vita with a look of pleading in her eyes.

Vita recognised that perhaps all was not well with Rosaline. She seemed anxious to hire Vita, as if she needed more than just a seamstress. Maybe she was lacking company? Rosaline's maid was old and nearly deaf, and Vita recalled that as she was walking through the manor, there was barely anyone else within. 

"I would have to ask my father, however I would be happy to make you your dresses and alter your existing ones. Possibly every few weeks I can show you the latest fabrics and make you some new garments?" Vita offered, thinking that this could be how she is able to get her family's business more well known amongst the lords and ladies of Verona - perhaps even beyond. 

"Oh Vita I am delighted! You will be welcome in my manor, and I will tell all my friends of your talents!" Rosaline beamed, giving Vita kisses on the cheek. Ignoring Vita's startled expression, she turned towards the window, gazing across the city. "Oh look! It is some young men travelling towards the ball! My, I wonder who they are," Rosaline mused, leaning on the balcony.

Vita approached Rosaline, internally wondering whether Rosaline needed a friend more than a seamstress. Depending on how well Rosaline paid her, she might be willing to oblige. Looking down to where the group of young men were walking, Vita started. She recognised the styles and fabric that those young men were wearing - it was the Montague boys! And Mercutio as well! A small flash of light caught her eye on Mercutio's tunic. It took Vita a few moments to realise that they were the sewing tacks that she had left in the garments. 

Why would he wear them so proudly on his chest, as if they were badges of honour won in battle? They were meant to provide ample evidence that she had rebuffed him - or were they?

"Vita my dear, it is getting close to the ball, and I must be leaving," Rosaline spoke, pulling Vita from her thoughts.

"Ah, yes Rosaline, I will see you soon then? Perchance to make some more gowns for you to impress Romeo?" Vita questioned.

"Of course my dear! Actually, perhaps you could come by on the morrow and look through my current gowns - see if any are worth their fabric."

Vita nodded and bid Rosaline farewell. As Vita left the manor, she could see the glow from the party bathe the surrounding buildings along the street. Whilst she did not wish to be there, she still wondered what sort of things would be happening there, what occurred in the dark corners and balconies, what secrets were whispered behind masks. 

But most of all, deep in her subconscious, she wondered what Mercutio was doing wearing those tacks.


	5. Open fields and open doors

Mercutio stumbled through the streets of Verona, angered at Romeo and his lack of appearance. For a man so scornful of attending the party in the first place, he now did not want to leave! How was Mercutio to make sense of the boy. During the ball Romeo did not once dance with Rosaline - who was looking very beautiful tonight - but instead ran off with another young girl. Mercutio shook his head. The boy was learning far too early how to play with women's hearts. Then again, with a teacher like himself, who was to blame?

"Ah, Benvolio, you have been a fine companion for tonight, but alas, where to go now? To sleep in an open field is too cold - I feel that I must sleep in a bed tonight," Mercutio drawled, the alcohol in his blood slurring his words. 

"My friend, I think you are correct. However, do you wish to sleep in your own bed or that of a lover?" Benvolio jeered, winking and nudging his friend. 

"Oh, you are a fiend! You dare assume that I would disturb a lady at this hour of the morning?" Mercutio mocked, feigning hurt.

"I did not mean a lady - one of the brothels down the road should do. In fact, I might pay a visit to them myself - tonight's dancing has left me with certain wants."

Mercutio laughed and shook his head. "Now who is the callot? Be sure to keep an eye on your purse, for they may just take all of it! But you go on ahead, I think I will retire to my own bed."

"Then you will go to bed cold, without a woman's soft embrace, paid for or not," Benvolio teased, walking towards the poorer districts of town.

"Ah my friend, when you are with a woman, you always pay. It just may not be with coin," Mercutio proclaimed, feeling rather proud of himself for thinking something so wise.

Benvolio laughed, waving his hands at Mercutio. He turned away, bidding Mercutio a good night.

Mercutio sighed, looking up at the moon. Oh how peaceful it was, shining its soft light down on the city. But how fickle - always changing, growing and shrinking. Whilst the sun was so bright and powerful, but always constant. 

"Ah! I am too ripe for this talk of philosophy and hard thinking! I must find my way back home!" Mercutio mused to himself, ambling along the pathways. 

He wandered to a stop, looking down a street. Thinking about philosophy made him think of Vita. And Vita lived down that very street.

Looking down at the tacks at his collar, he dreamed of how it would feel to hold Vita in his arms, to hear her call his name as he kissed her all over...

It only took him a few moments to realise that he was running.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

CRASH!

Vita started awake, her hand on her chest. What was that noise? 

Fearful, she grabbed a nearby candle and lit it, carefully crawling out of her bed. The noise sounded as if it was in the garden, like a bucket had been knocked over. She cursed that her father was a deep sleeper, wishing he would be able to come help. She debated in her head whether or not she should wake him, when she heard a voice coming from the garden.

"Oh Vita, Vita, my life, my sun, my stars, please come and bless me with the presence of your, your - oh what would be the presence - your beauty!"

Mercutio. 

Her heart jumped, much to her chagrin. Why did she feel this way when he was near? Why did her heart jump so if she loathed him so much?

Finally deciding that waking her father wasn't necessary, Vita walked to the window, gazing down into the garden. Mercutio was sprawled on the ground between two garden beds, a bucket knocked over next to his feet. By the way that he was talking, it seemed as if he were drunk. 

"Vita! My lady! I see you in that window! Unless it is your father, then I would be sorely mistaken and should be punished for not recognising your beauty! Not to say that your father is ugly..."

Very drunk.

Sighing, Vita walked down the stairs to the back door, opening it up to the cool night air. She shivered, bringing her gown tighter around her shoulders.

"Mercutio, you sot, what are you doing here? It is much too late an hour, and not to mention that you have no invitation to be here!" Vita whispered harshly, making sure her voice was quiet enough not to wake the neighbours.

"Sweet Vita, I was invited by Cupid himself! For he has proclaimed that my heart belongs to you, to do with as you please," Mercutio sang, haphazardly getting up, attempting not to knock over the bucket again. Failing to do so, he overbalanced, starting to lean forwards, about to knock his head. 

Vita stepped forwards and tried to grab him, but to no avail. Instead, he pulled her down with him.

Mercutio rolled at the last second, holding on to Vita tightly. The candle in her hand flew away, sputtering into nothing. They hit the ground, Mercutio groaning in pain as his back hit the ground hard. 

"Oh, my dear, you should not have tried to save me - I fear I may have broken something!" Mercutio strained.

Vita furrowed her brows, pushing away all of the baser feelings she was experiencing. "Are you implying that my body is too leaden for you? You git!" Vita spat, slapping her hand down on his chest. "Ouch!"

Mercutio started, her gasp of pain making him pause. Looking at her hand, there was a welling of blood in her palm, where they had struck the tacks at his collar. "Well dear Vita, isn't this ironic?" he said softly, taking her hand. Carefully wiping the blood away with his cuff, he kissed the palm of her hand, making sure to maintain eye contact with her.

Vita blushed, the pink travelling from her cheeks to her chest. His lips were so soft, and his eyes so deep. How was he doing this to her? Making her feel so fluttery?

Mercutio continued to kiss her hand, moving up her palm to each of her fingers. Between kisses, he whispered, "And my dear, I would never call you leaden," _kiss_ , "or fat," _kiss_ , "or any other word that implies thus," _kiss_ , "the only thing great about you," _kiss_ , "is your soul."

Vita's heart was now pounding, the heat in her face and chest now spreading to other places, making her feel a venereal need. But why him? Why Mercutio? Forcefully pulling herself away, she made her way back to standing, picking up the candle strewn on the ground. "How do you know how to judge a person's soul? I thought you needed one to do that," Vita stated, nearly painfully aware of how cold she felt without him near her. 

Mercutio looked at her with hurt eyes, propping himself up on his elbows. "Why do you hurt me so fair lady? Why do you believe that I have no soul?"

"How can you have one when you are playing on maiden's hearts to make them love you, then spurn them once they are of no fun to you! You play these games and have no desire to live with the consequences!" Vita cursed, turning away from him and walking towards the door. "You seldom speak to the women you have been with, and any that bear child are sent away to the country! And to top it off, you have the nerve to come here and expect me to be like a flower and open myself to you! Well sir, I will tell you that I am not some common whore to be played wit-" 

Mercutio came up behind Vita and spun her around to face him. Pushing her against the wall, he put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "My dear, I must stop you. You are only telling lies and gossip that have been spread around the city. I am not this foul cur you make me out to be," Mercutio said gently, removing his finger from her lips. He curved his palm around her cheek, feeling the warmth of her blush. His other arm was pressed against the door frame, his chest leaning into hers. He could feel her breath speeding, her heart quickening.

"What do you mean?" Vita gasped, noticing how close they were once again. 

Mercutio smiled, suddenly sober. "Whilst yes, I do play with women's hearts and enjoy the courting, I am no fiend. The women I have bedded are only whores, no ladies. And even then, only very few. I have never fathered a child, and have never sent a woman away when she displeased me." Mercutio sighed, dropping his head. "The things you have heard are the things used to keep other lords and their discretions secret - why besmirch their reputation when they can do so to mine? I am a relative of the Prince, but a lowly one - I have no wife, no family of my own, I am young - so they use me as a scapegoat for their sins."

Vita looked up at him, seeing the venerable side that he was showing her. She felt ashamed that she had believed these things of him, even if he was a nobleman. Perhaps her prejudices had been too harsh. "Mercutio..." she whispered.

Mercutio lifted his head at his name, stunned by the softness and care in her voice. He smiled, stroking her face.

"Mercutio, it is too late for this. I must get to bed, for I have an early day tomorrow."

He frowned, sad that he could not stay with her. "When will I see you then?"

"Tomorrow afternoon I should be free - my father will be working in the store. I can come by your home and we can talk then?" Vita suggested, trying to keep herself calm and collected.

"Then so it shall be, I swear upon the sun and the stars that I shall see you tomorrow. I shall be waiting for you, my dearest Vita," Mercutio promised, bringing his face closer to hers. His breath starting, he glanced at her lips, so pink and beautiful, and kissed her. 

Vita nearly gasped in surprise, but soon she was melting into the kiss. Soft and sweet, he cradled his hand to her cheek, his other hand moving down to her waist, sending shivers down her body. Was this what it would always feel like? Like sparks of fire were erupting everywhere they touched, making the heat at her core get hotter and hotter...

Mercutio pulled his face away, much to Vita's disappointment. "Ah, my dear, if I kept kissing you I would never leave, and I fear that your father may disapprove," he purred. After a moment, he released her from his embrace, walking towards the wall over which he had entered. "I shall bid you a good night my love, may your dreams be peaceful."

Vita was speechless as he clumsily mounted the wall and disappeared from view. She could hear him singing as he walked towards the rich quarter, his voice light and cheerful. She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her heartbeat. What had just happened? 

She looked down at her hand, the cut from the tacks still red. She smiled slightly, remembering the kisses he had so softly placed.

"Oh you lovesick fool, why are you still here? You would catch a cold if you were here too long," Vita mused to herself, stepping back inside the cottage. 

Vita leaned against the door, closing her eyes. She had to try and get her mind back into a stable state, but her heart was making it difficult. Had one kiss made her entire being go love sick and dismiss all thoughts of logic and sense? Shaking her head, she ran back up the stairs and dove into her bed, trying to drive away all thoughts of Mercutio and his lips, his hands, his eyes...

She wasn't doing a very good job. 


	6. Cruel Intent

The sun shone over the city of Verona, another warm day causing the flowers to release their scent throughout the streets. In seperate parts of the city, Vita and Mercutio both awoke from the previous night's encounter, however they both remembered the events in different ways.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Vita threw the sheets over her eyes as the sun peeked through the window onto her bed. She had barely been able to sleep at all after Mercutio had left, for she was left imagining how things could have gone differently if she had invited him in, or if they had gone out into the vast fields beyond the city and spent the night under the moon...

It was thoughts like that that kept her from falling asleep. Groaning, she rolled out of bed, hoping that she wasn't too late for Rosaline's wardrobe review. Glancing out the window, she figured she would have a small amount of time to have a bite to eat and run over. No time to waste on a bathe. 

Pulling a shift dress over her sleeping gown, she grabbed a dark red vest and tied it at her waist. Grabbing the matching overskirt, she hurriedly laced herself into it, then slipped on her best shoes. Hopefully she would be able to look relatively respectful in the richer districts of town, especially if she were to be visiting Mercutio's villa later this afternoon...

Smiling at the prospect of seeing Mercutio again, Vita grabbed a roll of bread from the counter, still fresh from the bakers. She hadn't seen her father this morning, but she assumed that he had already been to the markets to sell some stock, and had picked up the rolls on the way home. She would have to thank him later. 

Wrapping a shawl over her head to protect her from the sun, Vita strode out of the cottage onto the streets, walking briskly towards the Capulet household. Looking at the sun, she cursed softly and started running. "I shouldn't have slept in so late... not that sleeping was the thing occupying the time," she mused. 

She crested the hill that marked the boundary between the richer and poorer areas. She was nearly there, she just had to go a little further and she would make it. She saw the Capulet mansion, in all its glory. With the beautiful gardens, tall windows and doors, rich marble and ornate carvings, it was a reminder of everything that the noble had and the rest of the people didn't. Such a tribute to nepotism and inheritance. If Rosaline wasn't so naive and endearing, Vita probably couldn't stand her.

Vita slowed down as she reached the front gates of the mansion, trying to compose herself at least a small amount. Nodding to the servants at the gates, she made her way into the front gardens, where a few of the Capulet noblemen were sitting near the pond, in enthusiastic conversation. She didn't want to have to talk to them, so she tried to remember where Rosaline's rooms were. Curses! Why did they have to make these mansions so big! They were all too confusing! She grumbled in frustration and made her way to go ask the servants if they could take her to Rosaline.

"Hey! What is your business here, girl?" a voice shouted from behind her.

Turning, Vita saw that the Capulet men had stopped their conversation and noticed her. Making their way over to where she was, she recognised them - it was Lord Tybalt and his cousins, the leaders of the Capulet youth. Whilst Tybalt was held in high regards amongst the Capulet nobles, as a young man he had a jealous and black heart, and had been known to be cruel to animals, servants, and even children. Amongst the poorer regions of the town he was despised, as he would stir up trouble in the streets, causing mess and havoc, then not taking any responsibility and shifting blame. He had never been reprimanded for his actions, so he was allowed to do what he pleased. 

Vita bowed her head, dropping into a small curtsy. She didn't want to pick a fight with him, who was well known for his temper. "My lord, I am here for Lady Rosaline, I am to help her with her wardrobe," Vita spoke softly, trying to appear humble and insignificant. 

"Hmmm, is that so? Shouldn't someone who is helping a lady with her clothing own something better for herself?" Tybalt sneered, tilting his head down at her.

Vita bit back a retort, and instead replied, "Please sir, if you would be able to direct me to Lady Rosaline, I - "

"Do I look like a servant? You must be blind as well as deaf. Answer me this, wench, are these the best clothes you own? Are they the only clothes you own?" he jeered, stepping closer to her, making her step backwards. Vita realised they were backing her towards a corner, away from prying eyes. She glanced at the other two lords, and in despair she realised that both of them shared the predatory look in Tybalt's eyes.

"Or," Tybalt queried, grabbing her shoulder, "are they even yours? Did you steal them? Are you here to steal from Lady Rosaline?" He laughed, pushing her back into the wall, the force jarring her. A pain sprung from between her eyes, a heat spreading from the back of her head. She quickly put her hand up to check for blood, but Tybalt grabbed her arm, forcing it behind her back. He pressed her to him, causing her to start struggling to try and get free. 

"No! I told you, I'm here to help her, please, let me go..." Vita groaned, the pain making it hard to speak.

"I don't believe you..." he whispered. "I can't allow you to steal from Lady Rosaline... you must receive some punishment instead," Tybalt growled, using his free hand to grip her face. "Hmm. You aren't that pretty, but I guess that we don't have to look at your face..."

"Lord Tybalt!"

Vita nearly passed out in relief - Lady Rosaline was standing at the front of the garden, a cold glare set on her face. "Now what are you doing with my friend, Vita?" she scolded, shooing the men away from her and taking Vita from Tybalt's grip.

"Why my Lady Rosaline, I was not sure if she was telling the truth or not, with all that's happening in the city she could have been a Montague spy!" Tybalt excused, bowing his head, trying to appear modest. 

"And so that incurs the threat of bodily harm? Lord Tybalt, your personality betrays you," Rosaline tutted, wrapping her arm around Vita. "I swear, one day you will pay for your sins. You will get what is coming to you, whether it be by enemy or ally hands."

"My dear Lady Rosaline, I was only doing my duty as a Capulet. Now, if you excuse me, my fellows and I bid you a good day," Tybalt jeered, bowing as he stepped away. Once he and his cronies were out of ear shot, Vita sighed in relief and started crying. 

"Oh my dear Vita, I am so sorry..." Rosaline cooed, holding the crying woman softly, stroking her back. "If I had known they were here, I would have been waiting for you... the are always so cruel." 

"Then why do they still have their lordship? Why are they allowed to continue with their violence?" Vita sobbed, her head throbbing. She pulled off her shawl, and sighed in relief when she saw there was no blood. 

"Because the men who have that power do not care - either they act that way themselves or they are too naive to know any better - they don't listen or believe to those who have been wronged by them," Rosaline whispered, her voice trembling with what seemed like fear.

"Have they ever wronged you? Tried to... harm you?" Vita mumbled, resting her head on Rosaline's shoulder.

"No - they wouldn't dare harm me. A woman of noble birth is much too risky a target for them," Rosaline stated. "Now, why don't we get you inside, I will make sure the cooks have something for you to eat and if you wish you can rest."

Vita nodded tiredly. She was grateful for Rosaline, for if she hadn't come, Vita was horrified at the thought of what could have happened. She leaned on Rosaline as the slowly walked towards the mansion, inside where she could be safer...

But, Vita thought, the safest place I could be is with Mercutio. After last night, she felt like he would never let anything bad happen to her - he was so tender and caring... She wished so badly to go to his mansion, to be with him, to be safe, but she owed it to Lady Rosaline to take up her offer of food and rest. She was so tired, so tired...

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Mercutio awoke with a groan, his head throbbing and eyes squinting. He was still wearing the clothes from the ball, now all wrinkled after sleeping in them.

"Ah, I must have drunk too much of the wine! Dastardly wine..." he mumbled, rubbing his head. He looked at his window, blinking at the light, and realised it was well past noon. Definitely too much wine, he thought. Stumbling off his bed, he pulled his tunic off, flinging it to the ground. As it hit the ground, the tacks on the collar clicked on the floor.

"Vita! Wait, did I see Vita last night? Or was that a drunken folly of a dream..." Mercutio wondered aloud, picking up the tunic and laying it over a chair, smoothing it out carefully. As he straightened, he winced, his back aching in pain.

"What have I done now... wait, it must have happened! Falling over a wall Mercutio, how romantic..." he mocked, slapping his forehead. 

He could only remember pieces - he knew he had gone to her house, climbed over the wall and fell into the garden, and talked with her, but he couldn't remember much else. He recalled that he had held her for a brief moment - did they do anything else? Was he able to seduce her, or at very least convince her that he was not a dunce like she thought?

"With the amount of wine you consumed, you cad, I wouldn't be surprised that she now hates you even more..." he moaned, falling back onto the bed.

Why did he even go there? After hours, when he could have gotten caught, where it might have put into question his honour, her virtue...

He answered his own question, feeling the excitement growing as he thought about last night - he would do it all again just to see her, to be near her. Even if he was never able to truly be with her in the eyes fo God, he would be happy just to be with her.

"Lord Mercutio, you have a lady at the door for you," his servant announced outside his chamber door.

Was that Vita? Most likely to come and scold him for behaving the way he did, and perhaps to announce that never wanted to see him again.

"Very well, thank you," Mercutio replied, shambling out his chamber and down the stairs. He prepared himself for the worst, mentally steeling himself for the scolding he was about to receive. As he approached the waiting room, he smoothed back his hair in an attempt to look less disheveled than he felt - an attempt that he thought he utterly failed.

"Vita, my lady, I do so apologise for my intrusion last night, I hope that you can forgive-"

"Mercutio!" Vita cried, running towards him.

He looked at her quizzically as she approached him, then nearly keeled over in shock when she embraced him.

"Oh Mercutio, I am so glad to see you..." she sobbed into his chest, seemingly not worried that he was only wearing an undershirt.

Mercutio blinked, his surprise causing him to loose the ability to speak.

What had happened last night for her to treat him this way? And why was she so upset?

He confusingly put his arms around her, enjoying the closeness of her body, her warmth, her smell...

Memories tugged at his mind, but he was still hazy - obviously he had succeeded in some small way for her to treat him like this. But what was more at the forefront of his mind was what had happened for this strong, fearless woman to come to him in such a wreck?


	7. Suffer Fools

Vita breathed in the smell of Mercutio, the scent calming her racing heart. She didn't even care that the servant was still in the room with them - she just needed Mercutio. 

"Dear Vita, what is wrong? What is making you cry so?" Mercutio spoke softly, stroking her head and back.

"Oh Mercutio, the Capulet youths are horrid!" Vita sobbed into his shirt, "I shudder to think what might have happened if Rosaline hadn't arrived..."

Mercutio shook his head in confusion, the wine in his blood still addling his sense. Motioning to the servant, he guided Vita into a room off the foyer, filled with velvet couches and rich tapestries. 

"I apologise my dear, I seem to be still intoxicated since last night, I do not understand of what you speak," he gently explained, sitting them both on one of the couches. 

Vita let out an anguished yell, pushing herself off the couch and away from Mercutio. "I felt so powerless, so weak! The lords of Verona should be the pinnacles of human decency, but their wealth has corrupted their souls like a rotten apple!" she raged, seemingly ignoring Mercutio's words, "They sit in their mansions and treat the poor and weak like their own personal entertainment - how many people have they hurt, how many women have they raped, all for a bit of fun?" 

Mercutio sat upright, starting to understand the solemnity of her words. "Vita, what happened?" he questioned more loudly, grabbing her wrists and looking into her eyes. 

Vita sniffed, the tears from before drying on her cheeks. "The Capulet lot, Tybalt and his cronies - they forced themselves on me, and the only thing that stopped them from getting what they wanted was Rosaline."

Mercutio's blood started to boil. How dare those vile rats touch Vita? "Did they hurt you?" he breathed, his hands around her face. 

Vita saw the anger in Mercutio's eyes as she answered, "Yes, they pushed me into a wall, but there was no blood."

"They're breathing their last breaths, they just don't know it. I swear I will make them suffer for the wrong they have done you," Mercutio growled, stalking towards the door of the room, preparing to get his sword. If he hurried, he might be able to catch them before they got too far from the Capulet house.

"Mercutio, wait..." Vita called, then collapsed on the couch behind her.

He looked back, then ran back to her, helping her onto the couch more properly. "Vita, you are not well - I will fetch the surgeon immediately, he will know what to do," he whispered softly, laying her back on the pillows.

"Only if you promise me something," she replied weakly, the colour draining from her face.

"What my dear, I would do anything for you."

"I entreat you to stay with me - do not go on revenge tonight, for I wish to be by your side when you do - I want to see them pay for what they have done," Vita breathed, gripping onto Mercutio's arm.

Mercutio couldn't help but smile despite his anger, falling deeper in love with the fire-tempered woman before him. "Sweet Vita, if it is what you desire, then that is what you shall receive. I shall put aside my plans for revenge tonight, so that I may spend more time with you." His fingers stroked her cheek, then her forehead. "Oh love, you're sweating - I will get the surgeon. I swear I will be right back," he promised, starting to get up.

Vita smiled, then pushed herself up on her elbows and softly touched her lips to his. She then settled back into the couch, eyes closed and breathing deeply. 

Mercutio nearly fell over backwards with shock. She had kissed him! His lips still tingled from the soft brush of her lips, so quick and fleeting, but alight like a flame had blazed over his mouth. What had occurred last night for her feelings to change so quickly? His heart was racing nearly as fast as his thoughts, trying to remember what he had done to affect her so.

Not wishing to disturb her rest, he got up and headed towards the door, off to fetch the surgeon. His feelings could wait - Vita was all that mattered now. 

Then again, wasn't she always?

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Vita's head pounded like a drum, to the beat of her heart. She almost wish she had fainted completely, then she wouldn't be subject to such pain. 

She internally berated herself for acting so girlish - fainting in front of Mercutio like that, how simple of her. She didn't doubt that many a maiden had used that ruse to woo Mercutio and the other lords before. I'd like to see them try to withstand the pain in my head without passing out properly, she thought, smirking. 

She wondered where Mercutio had gone to get a surgeon - obviously a noble one, else they wouldn't deign to allow them into their homes.

She heard some noise at the door, and opened her eyes, the soft light of the lanterns illuminating the room in a warm light. Mercutio walked in, his face drawn with concern and worry. Behind him trailed an older man carrying a leather bag - he wore rich clothes, black velvets and silks, showing the wealth that he earned from tending to the rich. 

"Good sir, please help this woman, she has had a strike to her head and fainted not 20 minutes ago. Is there anything you can do to help her?" Mercutio entreated, being careful so as to not tip off the surgeon of any relationship, lest the rumours start flying. 

"Of course my lord, of course," the surgeon replied, bowing. He approached the couch, critiquing Vita. He seemed professional, inspecting her in a careful and gentle manner, which was surprising to Vita. 

"Well my lord, it seems this young woman has a shock- the strike to her head has caused the brain to shake about. I recommend a trepanning immediately to relieve the pressure and ease the pain," the surgeon said, reaching towards his surgical bag.

Vita's eyes widened in horror, hurriedly trying to push herself off from the couch. "Actually, I think I am in a much better sorts - I recall that I have not had anything to eat today, or drink. That must be the cause of my fainting spell. Nothing to worry about," Vita gritted through a forced smile, struggling to keep her pain hidden. 

The surgeon quirked a brow at her, then sighed and pulled his hand back out of the bag. Shrugging, he turned to a confused Mercutio, "My lord, I do believe this woman needs some food and drink - I would not recommend wine, as it may unsteady her further." He bowed, once to Mercutio and once to Vita, then proceeded to the door, muttering, "Never get to do any trepanning..."

As soon as the surgeon had exited the door, Vita swayed into Mercutio, grabbing him with all her strength.

"Vita! Why did you lie to the surgeon? He would have eased your pain!" he stated, swooping his arm under her knees and cradling her in his arms, taking her back to the couch.

"Mercutio, have you never read a medical text? Trepanning would have opened my skull, leaving my brain open to the elements - I assure you, it would have made it worse," Vita sighed, settling back onto the couch, only to wince again as the pounding in her head got worse. 

Mercutio's face went white as a sheet, then quickly shook the thoughts of revulsion from his head, focusing back on Vita. "Then what are we to do? You are still in pain, and I don't wish to see you suffer."

"Oh Mercutio, I suffer daily, but it is only of fools and their empty minds," Vita snarked, "You must go find Merelda, the healer from my district. She'll have a... less drastic method of helping."

"If you so desire, I shall do anything," Mercutio said, a fire in his eyes, as he leaped up and started towards the door. Pausing for a small moment, he asked sheepishly, "Where might I find Merelda? I may get slightly lost."

"You'll find her near my father's house - people on the street should be able to guide you, she is well known there. Oh, and Mercutio?" Vita called, tipping her head back to look at him.

"Yes, my sun?" 

"Maybe put on a shirt, preferably one of your plainer ones."

Mercutio looked down at his shirt and gave her a crooked grin, making her heart race. "Now why would I do that? I think I look rather dashing."

Vita smiled as he bounded up the stairs, mentally agreeing with him - he did look rather dashing, and more, in his undershirt and hose.


End file.
